We pulled up to her apartment building. I had no idea what to say or how to end this evening. She said she wanted to do something and dialed her phone. She turned to me and said, “Watch this.” Into the phone, she started to fake cry. “Oh, my God … I … I got picked up by this strange guy and …” I looked at her and she smirked at me through her fake sobs. “I was almost killed!” She smiled at me as he replied. She said, “Well, you weren’t home … and you didn’t answer, you son of a bitch!” Then he responded with something and she laughed out loud. “Ha. Got you, a-hole. Pick up your damn phone next time! Yeah. A friend. He drove me. I’m outside. Later, jerk.”
“You wanna come up?” she asked. I responded, “Uh, I think that … thank you … but …” She interrupted, “Are you sure? We could smoke this.” “Another time,” I said and she agreed, both of us knowing that probably wasn’t going to happen. She reached across the car and hugged me. I was still buckled in so it was a somewhat constrained, awkward side hug. She put her hand to my face and planted a kiss on my lips.
With a calm, sincere, sane voice that had been absent most of the night, she looked at me and said, “Thanks for being a gentlemen.” I smiled and chuckled, “Aw, no biggie.” She looked ahead and then back at me and said, “I don’t meet many gentlemen.”
She said goodbye and fumbled for her keys as she made her way in. I waited until she opened the door and waved back at her as she disappeared inside.
I ask that you judge me, her, and this date mercifully. From time to time, we just have to plea temporary insanity.
